Where the Brave Ones Go
by Sue Snell
Summary: When Stan found out he and his brother were going to wizard school, he thought they were in for the greatest adventure they'd ever have together, but now that they're face-to-face with something called the "Sorting Hat" he worries magic will only tear them apart.


"Abbott, Sarah!"

A skinny blonde girl with pigtails detached from the huddle of first years at the end of the Great Hall. As she made her way to the sorting stool, she was followed by a chorus of whispers:

"They must be going in alphabetical order."

"Aw man, we'll be waiting forever!"

"Sh! Watch…"

More than one first year was shushing now: Sarah had taken her seat on the stool, and a hush fell over the little crowd as the wizard in charge put the hat on her head. The hat was so big it fell right down past her eyes. For just a couple heartbeats, the Great Hall was dead quiet.

"Hm…" said the hat, and the whispering among the first years returned with urgency:

"What do you think it means if it has to stop and think about it? Do you think it can say a kid doesn't belong in _any_ house?"

"What do _you_ care, Sixer?" said Stan with a shrug, "You know where you're gonna end up."

Ford just grinned and shrugged back at him as the hat finally gave its decision about Sarah:

"Hufflepuff!"

The long table full of students with black and yellow crests on their robes erupted into cheers and applause, thrilled to have claimed the first of the new students. Stan found himself clapping along with them, caught up in the excitement of the moment. Even though he was _really_ nervous about his own sorting, it was hard not to be excited too.

The Great Hall was already way cooler than anything he'd pictured when trying to imagine life in a magic castle: It was _huge_ and lit by hundreds of magic floating candles and the ceiling was enchanted to look like it wasn't there! Was the whole castle gonna be that way? He imagined staring up at the stars every night before he went to sleep, or sitting in class and trying to pay attention while clouds floated by overhead… but paying attention wouldn't be so hard when it was _magic_ class, would it? The thought made Stan's stomach flutter as the applause died down and the next name was called:

"Bates, Manuel!"

He could still hardly believe he and Ford were going to _magic school_.

Their parents didn't know. They were told the twins had been hand-picked by the scholarship committee of some fancy private boarding school for "gifted" students. The reason why was only halfway explained to him and Ford, but in America there was a law against telling non-magic people about this stuff. In fact, the witch that did the explaining made it sound like once they got old enough there'd be a law against talking to their parents _at all_. The Hogwarts recruiter guy—Dumbledore, the same wizard running the sorting now—had whisked them away before she could go into detail about that. Ford had wanted to ask her more questions, but Stan would frankly be fine with never seeing her again. He couldn't say why, but he didn't trust her, the Ilvermorny lady, not one bit.

Dumbledore seemed on the level, though. The way he told it, American witches and wizards usually went to Ilvermorny instead of Hogwarts, but Stan and Ford got to choose: Dumbledore had this new student exchange program he was trying to get off the ground, and he'd pegged Stan and Ford as perfect candidates for the first exchange. Funny to think the lie they told their parents was almost kind of true that way.

" _I still can't believe they actually bought it,"_ he remembered telling Ford while they packed their bags.

" _Aw, c'mon, of course they did…"_ Ford's face had turned red. He'd never been any good at lying to him. Stan didn't bother calling him on it, just stopped packing and stared Ford down until he 'fessed up:

" _Okay, so, while you were helping Mom with dinner, Dad, uh, wanted to 'have a talk' with me."_

" _Yeah?"_

" _He thought you might've cheated on the admissions test or something."_

" _Figures."_

" _But I told him you didn't! …but then he was still all suspicious, so…"_

" _So?"_

" _So I said I told them I wouldn't go without you and that's why they were lettin' you in too."_

Ford had been really embarrassed about the whole thing, but Stan didn't mind. They had to tell their parents _something_ convincing, and Stan kind of liked that story.

"Liu, Mei!"

Wait, they'd already made it to the Ls? Stan thought they'd be waiting for ages, but all of a sudden it'd be their turn _real_ soon.

"Slytherin!"

Stan gulped. Somewhere in there—Maybe in the Ks? Had there even been any Ks?—his nervous excitement from before had drained away, leaving just the nervous part. There was a whole lot of nervous part.

"McGucket, Fiddleford!"

"That's me!" chirped a gangly, long-nosed boy with round spectacles. He straight-up _ran_ to the sorting stool and plopped himself down. Ford waved at him shyly and he enthusiastically waved back until the hat came down over his eyes.

McGucket was their first wizard friend. Well, more like Ford's. He'd been the only other American they saw on the Hogwarts Express, and the three of them had shared a compartment on the ride up.

(He wasn't a transfer student like them. His family had just sent all their kids to Hogwarts for so many generations that Ilvermorny didn't bother asking them anymore.)

He was a smart kid—maybe as smart as Ford—and he and Ford had spent most of the ride chattering about nerd stuff. He'd also filled them in on stuff they needed to know about Hogwarts, stuff Dumbledore had left out like which houses were the best and which one to watch out for. It was good to know going in that pretty much every dark witch or wizard in the UK came from Slytherin _and_ that those kids tended to be the ones that looked down on kids with no-maj parents. Kids like them.

(Muggleborns was what the British called them. And apparently there was another British word for it that McGucket wasn't allowed to repeat.)

McGucket recommended trying to land in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. Stan wasn't sure how you were supposed to _try_ to end up anywhere. The hat was just gonna look inside your head and see what kind of kid you were anyway, wasn't it? Then again, McGucket said his mom said the hat might talk to you inside your head, so maybe you could tell it where you wanted to go?

"Ravenclaw!"

McGucket grinned, handed the hat back to Dumbledore, and scampered over to his house's table. He looked happy, but Stan doubted he was all that _surprised_. A smart kid like him basically _had_ to wind up in Ravenclaw. McGucket said that was where all the smart kids went. McGucket said that was where Ford would go.

"Milton, Adam!"

McGucket didn't say where he thought Stan would go. Not really.

" _Oh, well, uh, folks from the same family wind up in the same house a lot!"_ he'd put in quickly on the train, _"I mean, nine out of ten McGuckets go to Ravenclaw (The rest go to Gryffindor, which is fine.) and, I ain't never even heard of a pair of_ twins _gettin' split up!"_

Nine out ten, huh? At least Ford would have his new best friend to keep him company…

Stan was trying real hard not to get all sad about it, since that would just make Ford feel bad too. He tried to think about how fun it would be in his own house, whichever one that turned out to be.

"Gryffindor!"

Hey, maybe. That was supposed to be a good one, right? The house where the brave ones went? Maybe he'd go there. He could be brave.

"Pines, Stanford!"

"Oh!" his brother squeaked upon hearing his name.

"Get on up there, Sixer!" said Stan, giving him a playful shove. His heart was racing. Dang it, it wasn't even his turn yet and he was scared. He had to be _brave_ now.

His brother laughed, but it was a lot louder than his normal laugh, and kind of high-pitched. Ford was scared too.

Stan tried to smile encouragingly as he watched Ford jog up to the stool, gripping the edge when he sat down to keep his hands from shaking. Dumbledore gently lowered the hat onto his head.

"Slytherin!"

Oh.

Ouch.

The hat hadn't even stopped to think about it, like it had for a bunch of other kids. Just spat it out the second it touched Ford's head, like it was obvious. Which would've been fine if it'd chosen the _right_ house, but…

Ford was visibly heartbroken when the hat came off, but he forced his face into a wobbly grin and marched over to the Slytherin table with his shoulders squared and his head held high. His new housemates offered a smattering of muted applause as he took his seat, but they obviously weren't impressed. So what McGucket said about Slytherins and muggleborns was true. Stan's fists clenched as Dumbledore called his name. Those no-good snake-charmers were too dumb and full of themselves to know what a great kid they got. They didn't deserve his brother and his brother sure as heck didn't deserve them…

Stan stomped up to the stool, snatched the hat from Dumbledore's hand, and sat himself down, yanking the hat down past his ears. McGucket said it talked to you inside your head…

 _Listen up, you stupid, filthy rag, you take that back right now! My brother belongs in Ravenclaw with the rest of the brainiacs!_

 _I've been doing this for over nine hundred years, boy,_ a snide little voice replied, close by like someone had bent down to whisper in his ear, _I don't make mistakes._

 _I'd bet you a gallon or whatever they're called he's the smartest kid in this whole school!_

 _Perhaps,_ the hat conceded, _But Ravenclaw isn't merely the house of the "smart." It's the house of the_ wise.

 _What's the difference?_

 _You'll learn as you get older. Meanwhile your brother will thrive in the company of those like him: The proud, the cunning, the frightfully ambitious. Those willing to walk a darker path, if the darker path leads to glory._

Stan shifted his weight on the stool uneasily. Ford wasn't any of those things… was he? The Sorting Hat _had_ looked inside Ford's head, even if it was only for a second. What did it see?

 _In any case,_ the hat concluded, _What's done is done, so there's no sense in arguing on your brother's behalf. You're only wasting your_ own _time._

For the first time since he sat down Stan felt the weight of hundreds of eyes on him, and was glad the hat came down past his own eyes so he didn't have to see them. By this point everyone else had to be wondering why his sorting was taking so long.

 _Now you,_ the hat went on thoughtfully, _You're a tougher one to place. Not short on bravery, I see, and also uncommonly loyal…_

Stan wondered if Ford was jealous of him right now, of how _now_ the hat was taking its sweet time when before it barely let Dumbledore set it down.

 _Skip it,_ Stan thought back at the voice, _You gotta put me in Slytherin with Stanford. Do it. I can be "cunning" and "ambitious" too._

… _yes, you can,_ the hat acknowledged reluctantly, _But I must say I think you'd do better in—_

 _Nuh-uh. It's gotta be Slytherin._ There was no way he was leaving Ford all alone with those jerks.

 _Well, if you're really so sure…_

 _Do I_ sound _like I ain't sure?_

"…Slytherin!"

The round of applause from the Slytherin table was even less enthusiastic for him than it was for Ford.

 _That's right, you stuck-up punks,_ he thought as he whipped the hat off and ran to Ford's side, _You gotta deal with_ two _of us._

"Stan!" Upon his arrival, Ford hopped out of his chair and threw his arms around Stan in the most sincere sibling hug they'd had since they were little kids.

"Heh, easy, Sixer…" Stan made sure the hug didn't last more than a second or two and skipped the pats. They had a tough enough road ahead already. No need to kick it off looking like a couple of sissies in front of their whole house. Ford backed off with a sheepish smile.

"Guess Fiddleford was right about twins after all, huh?" he whispered as they took their seats to watch the rest of the sorting.

"Guess so…" Stan murmured back.

"How come yours took so long?"

"Uh, I dunno. It didn't talk to me or nothin.' Maybe it fell asleep or somethin.'"

"Hmph. They should get a new one. _Obviously_ this one's been at it too long."

" _Obviously,_ " Stan muttered with a nod, "But hey, at least we landed in the same house, right?"

"…yeah." Ford smiled. He was clearly still disappointed about not getting into Ravenclaw, but, right then, Stan got the feeling Ford had been just as scared as he was of the hat splitting them up.

"High six?"

"High six!"


End file.
